That's Something
by loveadubdub
Summary: Sometimes his ability to lie so easily worries him a little, and he's spent more than a few nights Googling pathological liars to see if he fits the profile.  He does.  But just barely.


A/N: This story fits in as a semi-followup to "Inevitable," but it's also meant to match up with what's happened so far on the show. The timeline of events had to be skewed just slightly, but it's probably not even noticeable.

**THAT'S SOMETHING**

… …. …

This semester is different than fall semester.

Last semester, Jesse was content to spend his time getting settled, making friends, doing his fair share of partying, and putting his actual schooling to the back-burner. At least _semi _to the back-burner. He still managed to pull decent grades, but the first B of his entire life was not his proudest moment. Still, a B is hardly the end of the world, and while he may be dramatic, he's not _that _dramatic.

He buckles down after Christmas, though. His grades can't slip too much, or he'll lose his scholarship. Not that he's entirely concerned with that because obviously his parents could afford his tuition if they were forced into the matter. He'd rather they _not _be forced, though, because they have enough control over him as it is now. He knows better than to complain, though. His checking account stays well-stocked, and he's nearly positive they're going to agree to the off-campus apartment next semester. He knows he's indulged, but his parents appreciate him. He does what he can to make them happy, and they usually give him most everything he asks for. It's a win-win situation. For him definitely. He likes to believe for his parents as well.

His theatre course load is actually lighter, but his professors all encourage the students to supplement the lighter load with extra dance classes. He ends up in a ballet class with people who are collectively better dancers than him, and that's not something he takes kindly to. He doesn't like being known as anything but the best, so to admittedly be one of the _worse _dancers in the group doesn't sit well with him. He doesn't let it show, of course, because he was born with a show face and will die with one just the same. Instead, he starts working his ass off and paying attention to technique he's barely noticed before. He's been in dance classes since he was a toddler, but it's never been his favorite thing. He's good- better than most of the people he grew up in class with- but he's not as good as the people here. That bothers him, and he doesn't intend to allow it.

He made him up his mind a long time ago to be better than everyone at _everything, _and if that means he has to truly care about ballet for the first time in his life, he will.

To accomplish this, he supplements his supplements with extra classes at a local studio. He signs up for lessons and joins a class that meets two nights a week. It's not an ideal way to spend his evenings, but he'll do anything. He meets a girl in his class- petite, brunette, _loud- _she's familiar, and because he's amused more than anything, he starts talking to her. She's familiar, of course, in a less talented/slightly less obnoxious sort of way, but she's sweet on some levels, and she's naïve and unguarded. Rachel Berry would eat this girl alive.

Her name is Sarah, which is plain but classic, and Jesse's not sure what she's really doing in LA. If she came here to be a dancer, she needs more talent. If she came for other reasons, she needs more personality. He asks her one day while they're stretching, and she just shrugs and says, "I like it here." He thinks it's stupid to be in a place as expensive as Los Angeles just because you _like _it. She's from Memphis. Jesse's never been, but he hears there's a good chance of being shot. Sarah doesn't look like she's been dodging bullets her whole life. She also doesn't have much of an accent, which is disappointing because soft Southern accents are usually quite nice. She says _y'all _occasionally, which is cute, but he thinks she should try to sound more Steel Magnolias and make herself more interesting. But maybe Louisiana and Tennessee are different. He doesn't know. Or care really. The furthest South he's ever been is Kentucky, and that was only by an accidental wrong turn in Cincinnati.

Sarah makes him dinner in her tiny little apartment, and it occurs to him for the first time that she's probably older than he is and that he hasn't even asked. He knows it's rude, but he does anyway, and she tells him she's twenty, so he lies and says he is, too. She assumes he's a junior, and he doesn't correct her. She's nothing, she says. She has one semester of community college under her belt and not enough credits to classify as anything. She doesn't sound embarrassed, even though he personally judges uneducated people. At least secretly. He doesn't tell her that, of course. It's not like their friendship is built on much truth anyway.

It seems natural to build their sexual relationship on an equal amount of truth.

She tells him she's a virgin one night when they're kissing, and he's trying to take things further as inconspicuously as possible. He's shocked, but he doesn't let on. Instead, he lies and tells her a story made up completely in his head about how he's only ever been with one girl. How they dated for four years and broke up just two months ago because they couldn't take the distance anymore. The girl's in Ohio still. But he loved her. He's trying to get over her, though, but it's difficult.

It's all bullshit because he's never dated anyone for more than four _months, _much less four years. He's certainly been with more than one girl. He has never been in love. And he doesn't believe in long distant relationships. Sometimes his ability to lie so easily worries him a little, and he's spent more than a few nights Googling pathological liars to see if he fits the profile. He does. But just barely.

He's not sure _why _he makes up such an elaborate lie, but it's fun. He enjoys any opportunity for acting experience. And the Jesse in that story sounds much more trustworthy than the actual Jesse St. James. Regardless of the reasoning, it works. It works, and she lets him do it. Three days later, she's giving her virginity to someone she doesn't even know, and he thinks his self-satisfaction should disgust him more than it does. It doesn't, though. He counts it as a victory in the invisible war he's keeping track of in his head.

She doesn't come, and he doesn't care. Virgins generally _don't_, he learned that a long time ago. He could probably do something to make it a little better for her, but he's not that concerned. He focuses on her hair and thinks it should be a shade darker. He debates telling her she should dye it and decides against it because it doesn't sound like the most appropriate comment to make to a woman you're currently inside and defiling. Her eyes are hazel, not brown. It'd be better if they matched her hair. He doesn't tell her _that, _either.

He's nice to her afterward, but he doesn't kiss her goodbye or anything. He just winks at her as he pulls his clothes on and promises to call her the next day. He has no intention of doing any such thing, but she doesn't know that. She buys it as easily as she's bought all his other lies. He goes back to his dorm and tells his roommate, and they laugh about it.

He calls the dance studio the next morning and switches to a different class.

In April, he joins the company of the undergraduate production of _Hairspray. _He hates that show and thinks that if he has to subject himself to it, he should at least be cast as Link. He's a freshman, though, and despite the fact that he knows he's more talented than every other person in that cast, he ends up in the chorus. That's new. He's never been in the background of anything really, and he doesn't particularly like it. Still, he's smart enough to know not to burn bridges. If anyone's capable of being spotted from the sidelines, it's him, and he knows it. So he plants a smile on his face and pretends like he's having the time of his life. (It's not, of course. It's boring, the show is stupid, and most of the leads are over-indulgent and annoying- he says none of this).

Being a theatre major makes it very easy to get laid.

There are more gay guys than straight ones, so that works in his favor immediately. More importantly, though, is the fact that so many people in that major and that industry look to talent as being the highest level of attraction. He suffers from that truth himself. It works to his advantage, though, because he _is _talent. He's not being conceited, just honest. He's talented, he knows it, so does everyone he comes into contact with. Girls are turned on by it. His singing voice (maybe mixed in with a sweet, though often insincere, smile) makes girls want to take their panties off and crawl into his bed. It's not a particularly new revelation.

He uses it to his advantage. He's read plenty of articles stating that he's at his sexual prime, and he intends to benefit completely from that fact. If this is as good as it gets, he wants to live it up. So he does. He doesn't go overboard. He's not some common manwhore. There are a few select girls that he tends to go back to over and over, and despite the fact that they all know about each other, he never has to work very hard to get them into bed. It's almost boring.

He goes to a party and gets drunk one night. It's nothing special, but it's off-campus and there is plenty of free alcohol. He almost hooks up with a random brunette, but he feels like that's where he always goes, and he wants something different. All the blondes look annoying, though, and he doesn't see any redheads. So he doesn't hook up with anyone. He goes back to his dorm without his friends and ends up at his computer. He's not really sure why he tries to refriend Rachel on Facebook, but he mostly just wants to see if she'll accept. She doesn't. But she doesn't deny him, either.

So that's something.

He's not obsessed with her. He thinks about her sometimes. Mostly because she's the most interesting person he's come across in his nearly nineteen years. Not all of that interesting is a good thing, of course, because there are plenty, _plenty _of things about Rachel Berry that make the average person want to kill themselves. But Jesse's not average. He gets her. She amuses the hell out of him. Plus, he never really got the chance to see where it could all go, so he wonders sometimes.

Being curious is hardly a crime.

And he likes to think they came to some sort of unspoken resolution on Christmas while they sat in his car during the rain.

He throws himself headfirst into finals, intent on coming out with a 4.0 and securing his scholarship for the following year. He's intelligent. Grades come as easily to him as everything else does. He still knows better than to take things for granted. It works, though. His finals are easy. He's got zero worries as he packs up his dorm room and puts most of his belongings into storage for the summer. His parents have guilted him into coming home, and he does so willingly because he still needs them to fund him. And now that they've agreed to the apartment, he's going to need them even moreso next year.

Going back to Ohio isn't as terrible as he expects it to be. He has no delusions about his hometown or the people in it. It's Midwestern and pathetic, but he puts up with it because on some level, this is the place that _made _him. Akron, Ohio isn't much, but it's got a piece of him in it. That alone makes it worth _something._

Going back home means going back to Vocal Adrenaline, and even though he's graduated and no longer at Carmel, he has a feeling he'll _always _be part of Vocal Adrenaline. He doesn't think about them much, about the friends and the teammates he was so close with at one point. They've all moved on, and he likes to think he's moved the furthest. He rarely speaks with any of them- if he does it's through text or on Facebook. He's got new friends now, and he suspects they do, too, though he hardly cares enough to find out. But when he's home, he knows he's going to be pulled into getting together and pretending as if an entire year hasn't passed since they've had anything _relative _to talk about.

Whatever. He's bored.

He goes to Laura Ellinger's house because her parents are in Hawaii and she's having people over. She says it's _not _a party, which basically translates to _don't bring anyone with you. _Jesse has no one to bring anyway, so he goes and meets up with his old friends and they laugh and talk and all pretend that it's not as weird as it really is. He pretends not to be judging them all, amusing himself just as he did at Christmas with who's gotten fat and who has nothing to show for a year away from home besides a lame flower tattoo to the lower back.

VA won Regionals again. He already knew, of course, because he has the Internet, and they're all pretty braggy. He didn't care too much while he was in California and otherwise occupied, but now that he's home, he's a little more interested and asks who has the video. Someone pulls it up, and they crowd around the computer watching Vocal Adrenaline be ten times worse than they've ever been before. He doesn't say this and just agrees with everyone else who lies and says they're amazing. He wants to watch McKinley, though, and he laughs right along with everyone else at how terrible they are. But he's not really paying attention to anything besides the fact that _Santana's _singing lead.

And that's something, too.

It takes six beers and two hours for him to get his phone out and text her. _Why'd you give up the lead?_

It takes another hour for her to finally respond. _What are you talking about?"_

_Regionals. Why did you let them take it from you?_

Ten minutes later, he gets back a very childish, _Leave me alone._

So he does. If she doesn't want to talk to him, he'll humor her. At least for now.

It takes him two weeks to get reliable New Directions gossip, and he has to go about it carefully because the last thing he wants is to appear like he gives a shit. He doesn't really. He just wants to know who died or what unknown virus infected them and made Rachel forget her place as the lead and willingly hand it over to someone with talent as questionable as... well, _any _of the others really.

But then he gets his gossip, and he's happier about it than he should be.

Relationship drama. The end of Finn and Rachel. A bunch of other bullshit he doesn't care about. He zones in on the Finn and Rachel part and focuses on that. It's the only part that means anything. He doesn't know when it happened or why, and he doesn't particularly care. He can flesh out the details later if he needs to. He wants to know how that relates to Rachel no longer being lead, but it seems less important now.

Because he's still actively attempting to improve his dancing, he looks into scheduling a ballet class. The schools in Akron are the ones he was raised on. They're the ones who turned him into an inadequate dancer in the first place, so he marks them off of his list of potentials. He's willing to travel out of town if it means his chances of gaining more knowledge are higher. The school he attended while staying with is uncle was nice. He seemed to get better instruction there, and it's not as if he has any major plans for the summer. Spending his Saturday afternoons in Lima doesn't sound like a terrible idea.

She's there on Saturday, of course, and he knew she would be. She's not in his class because he's graduated to the "adult" level, and while she might be gifted, she's still on the level below. But she's there because she helps out with the little kids. She's not a teacher, but she's an assistant. She wrangles the kids and keeps them on the barre when their ADHD kicks in and they want to run around the room and stare at themselves in the floor to ceiling mirrors. He watches her through the two-way mirror window as she works on keeping a group of four year olds focused and on task with their teacher. She doesn't seem to have much patience, and he's not surprised. She's a perfectionist, and perfectionists rarely have patience for anything less than one-hundred percent.

He waits in the hallway as the class lets out, and all of the kids run screaming out of the studio to find their parents. Rachel grabs her own bag and nearly bumps straight into him because she's flipping through he phone and not paying attention.

"The chances of causing serious injury to your facial region while texting and walking are very high," he says seriously, and she stops to stare at him. She's confused at first, but it doesn't take long for her look to fade into something else.

"If you're here to stalk me, I should inform you that my father is close personal friends with one of the lead detectives on the local police force."

He laughs because she's funny and also because she's... well, hilarious. "I'm not _stalking _anyone, Rachel. Stop being so dramatic. I'm here for class."

"Here," she repeats. "For class. In Lima." He nods. "Why, may I ask?"

"This is the best training I've had in Ohio," he states simply. "And my professors constantly stress the importance of ballet and dance in general. I can't stop training just because it's summer."

"Isn't California summer preferable to Ohio summer?" She raises her eyebrows, and he's mostly just surprised that she's actually speaking to him. He decides to press his luck.

"Yes, but _you're _not in California." He flashes her what he knows is a perfect smile, and she just scowls at him. It's funny because they both know he's full of shit. Still, he likes to see how far he can push her before she explodes.

He'd like to try the theory in other areas as well, but baby steps.

"Jesse, if you're here for the 12:30 class, you're about to be late," she says calmly, and he wonders if she knows how unintentionally amusing she is. He's sure she doesn't.

"You should wait for me." He waits for her to snap and start screaming. "I could take you to a late lunch."

She rolls her eyes, clearly not believing his intentions for a second. It's okay, of course, because his intentions are never very nice. She knows this firsthand. He wonders how much effort it would take to make her forget.

"I appreciate the offer." Her words drip with sarcasm. "But I'm not in the mood for omelets."

She is _never _going to let that go.

He spends the next few days mostly with his parents. It's not terrible. He doesn't hate his parents. He loves them, appreciates them. He's not a _total _jackass. He respects his parents, and they respect him. He's treated like an adult and has been for a very long time. There's a mutual respect, and it works. It gives their family a level of stability.

On Thursday night, he goes to another party and ends up making out with Melinda Avery. He could probably sleep with her (he has once before), but he doesn't. She's on the rebound after being recently dumped, so he lets her get drunk and cry, and then when she kisses him, he doesn't stop her. He does everything right because he's an expert at this. It's easy with these girls. They all trust him too much, as if he's some sort of good guy or something. He's not, of course. He's just a good actor.

He doesn't see Rachel the next Saturday, and when he looks into the window of the class she usually helps in, he sees no one but the teacher and all the pint-size brats. He doesn't bother caring about it. He just goes to his class and flirts quietly with one of the girls in there. She's flattered and falls for it immediately. He lets her because it's funny and also because he likes to do things just for the sake of doing them. (Google has also sometimes led him to believe he might be a sociopath- he chooses to ignore that).

He fucks that one. Emily. She's his age, graduate of McKinley, attending community college in Lima. He doesn't really lie to her. He tells her the truth about his age and his school and asks her if she knows Rachel. She does. She says she's annoying. He agrees, and they have sex. He tells her not to tell anyone at the studio because he doesn't want a 'reputation.' By telling her to keep quiet, he's ensuring that everyone will know. Girls don't know how to keep their mouths closed, especially when asked to do just that.

It takes two more weeks before he finally sees Rachel again. Apparently she's been in Florida with her parents on vacation, and he doesn't miss the annoyed look on her face when she catches him in the hallway of her studio. She's already in a bad mood because her patience with children has apparently reached its breaking point. She sees him outside of her classroom, and she rolls her eyes.

"Emily Miller is a slut," she says bluntly without any type of former greeting whatsoever.

He plays dumb and asks, "Who?"

Rachel rolls her eyes and stalks off. Her hair is falling completely out of its bun, and she doesn't even care. He knows he's winning.

Within three weeks, Emily is his girlfriend.

At least, she's his girlfriend in the sense that she calls herself that and he doesn't correct her. He doesn't need to because as long as he doesn't confirm or deny, he can't be held responsible for anything that might happen in the future. It doesn't matter anyway. She's pretty, and she's decent in bed. She's incredibly boring everywhere else, though, which is something he doesn't really appreciate, but it's not as if he spends an _awful _amount of time with her. Akron and Lima aren't exactly all that close, and he rarely sees her except on Saturdays and sometimes Sunday mornings if he happens to sleep over.

He makes sure to treat her like a princess whenever they're at the dance studio, and since that's where they most often are, he's not surprised that she seems to fall for the Prince Charming act even more quickly than most girls. It _is _an act. He doesn't care about her. He doesn't know her middle name, can't remember if her cat is a boy or a girl, has no idea what she's studying at community college, and he doesn't even know if she's ever tried to tell him these things. He doesn't pay attention to much of anything that comes out of her mouth because she's _boring. _She's no different than every other girl on the street.

She just happens to have a nice spot in a desired line of sight.

Rachel glares at him whenever she sees him, and she glares at Emily, too. Emily assumes she's jealous, and maybe she is. Jesse neither knows nor cares. As long as she's glaring, though, it means that she's also staring. And if she's staring, then she's doing exactly what he needs her to do.

One day, she stands in the back of the studio and watches his class. When they're finished, he grabs his bag in one hand and Emily's hand in the other. Rachel leans against the door frame as they move to leave.

"I'm glad you took your professor's advice," she says with the tiniest hint of passive-aggressive malice. "Clearly, you don't need to miss a summer of training. You might want to think about picking up the Wednesday class as well. I think you might benefit."

The thing about Rachel Berry... If he ever manages to actually _get _her, he's going to make _sure _she knows who's in charge.

He checks the class schedule online. The Wednesday adult class is opposite a senior level contemporary class. He signs up for the extra lesson the very next week.

Wednesdays at the studio are much calmer than Saturdays. There are no children, and the classes are much smaller. There are only three other people in his ballet class, and he is the only male. On break, he checks out the contemporary class and sees that Rachel is one of only six participants there. Emily is nowhere in sight. He conveniently left out the fact that he'd be frequenting Lima _twice _a week from now on out of the conversation when he spoke to her on the phone last night.

Rachel's out of breath and sweaty by the time the classes let out. Jesse makes sure to slip out of class just a couple of minutes early to make sure not to miss her. She's surprised to see him, but, of course, she doesn't let on. She just levels him with the same bored look he's come to expect from her, but she self-consciously messes with her hair, twisting it back into place and trying inconspicuously to wipe some of the sweat from her face.

"I took your advice," he says, stating the obvious. "Ballet's not my strongest point, so I'm willing to take all the help I can get."

Rachel seems surprised, probably because he's just admitted that he _has _a point that's not his strongest. He doesn't blame her. He's surprised as well.

"Emily didn't decide to join you?" She looks past him, probably trying to spot his alleged girlfriend lurking around the corner. "I'm surprised she lets you do anything by yourself."

He smiles. He wants to laugh, but that might be pushing it a little. "Yes, she's got me on a tight leash. The whole six hours a week I see her."

Rachel's eyes flutter backwards, not _quite _an eyeroll but dangerously close.

"What about Finn?" he asks, knowing perfectly well that he's asking for trouble but not caring at all. "He doesn't care that you spend so much time here?"

Her eyes darken. They go almost black. And her face twitches just slightly. He's gotten to her, and he knows it. He loves it.

"Finn and I broke up months ago." She goes for a common defense and stands up straighter, as though pulling herself from 5'1" and a half to 5'2" is somehow intimidating. She's clearly trying to sound as if she doesn't care, and she's failing miserably.

He pretends to be surprised. He's a better actor than she is because she doesn't actually seem suspicious. "What happened?" He tries to sound concerned and is met with an immediate clamming up.

"I don't think that's any of your business," she snaps, and her arms go over her chest protectively.

He nods. "You're right. I'm sorry."

And _damn, _he must be even better than he thought because she actually _buys _that and keeps going. Of course, she's always had a problem keeping her mouth closed, but she's usually a little better at keeping her resolve. At least temporarily.

"He slept with Santana." She says it so resolutely.

"He cheated on you?"

"Before. It happened while I was with you." He waits for how that relates to the breakup, but then he realizes that it _is _the reason_. _

"But you already knew that..." he says slowly, wondering why she suddenly decided to care so much.

Rachel stares at him, her eyes wide for a second before she once again straightens up to her full height and says, "No, I most certainly did not. Did _you?"_He realizes that he's just opened a box of terror he didn't even mean to unwrap. Normally, he does things with calculated reasoning, but this is actually totally unintentional. Rachel's about to go crazy. And that brand of crazy comes in its very own special packaging.

"I thought that was common knowledge..." He tries to sound sympathetic and innocent in the entire thing. Actually, he _is _innocent. It really never occurred to him that Rachel did not know that. He knew about it from the second day he transferred schools. It really does surprise him that Rachel didn't.

"Apparently it _was _common knowledge," she snaps. "For everyone but _me. _How could you know about that and not tell me?" She's glaring at him, demanding an explanation for something he really has nothing to do with. He just tries to keep his voice as calm as possible.

"Rachel. Why _would _I tell you that? Even if I thought you didn't already know?"

She keeps the glare on her face, but then she looks sort of heartbroken all at once. He knows she's not going to cry or anything. She knows better than that. But she's upset, and he can tell. He also gets the feeling that she's leaving more details on the breakup out of the story, but he doesn't push it. Instead, he does what he does best.

He takes advantage of a distraught young female.

He takes her for coffee, and he's not really surprised that she agrees to go with him. She even gets in his car and lets him drive. She doesn't say much, but he doesn't push the conversation, either. When they get to the coffee house, he holds the door open for her and waits politely while she orders before placing his own and then taking out his wallet and paying for them both. For a second, he thinks she might bitch at him for being presumptuous or some other bullshit she's likely concocted in her head. But she doesn't. She just takes her coffee and sits down with him at one of the little tables.

He wonders if she knows she looks terrible. He doesn't think he looks his best, but he's at least a little more put together than she is. She's still dressed for dance, and her hair is a mess. It's not at all attractive, but he finds it insanely _cute _for some reason.

"Do you like California?" she asks quietly after a few minutes of silence. She seems more defenseless now, and he's not sure if he's happy that he's got her to this point or if he misses the anger. He thinks it's the latter.

"I love it." It's not a lie. California is where he was born to be. It's where all of his dreams _will _come true, and he doesn't ever plan on leaving.

"I thought about it." Her eyes dance across the table as she blows absently at the steam from her cup. "But I think I want to go to New York."

He nods. "New York is what you need."

She looks up, and he sees something curious in her expression. He can almost read it and knows that she's wondering why _he _doesn't need New York. But she knows. Their dreams are the same, but they're different. She dreams of Broadway and the Tonys. He appreciates those things, but he dreams of movies and the Oscars. That's where they're different. That's why they'll probably always be on opposite coasts and probably always on opposite teams. It's poetic in a way- they were destined that way from the beginning.

Almost as if she can read his mind, she says, "I heard Vocal Adrenaline only placed fifth at Nationals."

He nods and tries not to appear as smug as he really feels. "They're not as good this year."

And to his surprise, she shakes her head and agrees. "No. They're not."

He thinks about attempting some sort of self-awareness and blaming their lack of success this year on the loss of Shelby. But bringing Shelby up just seems cruel. He might not care on most days, but he isn't going to be intentionally mean today. Not about that. Not about the mother she gained and lost within a matter of weeks- most of which was thanks to him in the first place. He also doesn't bring up the fact that he saw Shelby his first week home and saw the one year old who's now running and walking and giggling and jabbering. She's a very pretty child. Chubby with brown curls and green eyes. She looks more like Puck than like Quinn. He was surprised to see that.

He doesn't mention any of that. Instead, he decides to throw self-awareness aside and says, "They suffered greatly when I left."

Rachel looks like she wants to be annoyed and/or disgusted, but he almost sees the hint of a smile. He takes that as a good sign and asks something he's wanted to know for weeks.

"Why did you give up the lead"

He sees the same instant darkening in her features that he saw when he asked about Finn. She's full of hot button lows, and he knows her well enough to know when to push each.

"I was _forced _to," she says simply, and she moves to toss her hair behind her shoulder before realizing that it's pulled up. "I also do not _care. _My talents are wasted in glee."

He nods, also knowing her well enough to know that ego stroking can and _will _get you everywhere. "They definitely are."

"It doesn't matter." She seems relieved that he agrees with her. "I'll be a senior next year, so I'll be spending most of my time auditioning and interviewing for colleges. I doubt I'll even have time to worry much about trivial things like glee."

"You're right. And you're wasting your time there anyway." She looks at him eagerly, hanging onto every word. "You're too talented for something so mundane."

"You were lucky to be in Vocal Adrenaline." She takes a long sip from her coffee. "At least they appreciated you. New Directions never did. They don't appreciate me, either."

He shakes his head, agreeing with her completely. He's overdoing it, but it's also the truth, so there's a double edge to it. "They're all jealous of you, Rachel. Jealous because you'll be a star, and they'll all be stuck working in mechanic shops and call centers."

She nods as if she knows this already. He thinks it's funny, but he's also impressed. He's got the biggest ego he knows of, but hers comes a very close second. Maybe that's what intrigues him so much. The difference, though, is that as egotistical as he is, he's at least _aware _of the issue. Rachel is totally unaware of everything. She genuinely doesn't understand how she comes off to other people, and every part of her personality is just completely natural and _honest._

He wonders if that makes her case of egotism better or worse than his own.

He sees her again on Saturday morning, and she purposely avoids him. It's clear that she's in no mood to admit the fact that she spent nearly two hours in a coffeehouse with him lamenting her boyfriend and social troubles. He's still not sure he's got the entire story when it comes to the breakup, but he honestly doesn't care. They're not together, and that's what matters. The understanding they came to on Christmas was cemented on Wednesday, and she knows it. She can't even _pretend _to hate him now because she so clearly _doesn't. _

He kisses Emily after class and keeps one eye down the hall to where Rachel is talking with one of the teachers. She's got one eye on him as well, and when those eyes meet, he knows she understands the unspoken conversation. It excites him a little bit, and when he goes back to Emily's apartment afterward, he can barely wait to get her into bed and get inside of her. She's oblivious, of course, because she always is. But he doesn't care.

When he heads for the shower later, he realizes for the first time that her genderless cat is actually a dog.

He doesn't like that his brain is so fixated on Rachel. He knows he's doing most of this for his own amusement, but there's a little part of it that's unintentional. He's more attracted to her than he was when he was dating her, possibly because of a forbidden fruit analogy. Specifically, he wants to have _sex _with her, and he's bordering on obsessed wondering if Finn ever got there. The thought makes him inexplicably angry, but he's not surprised because he doesn't like to be one-upped at anything. He tried very hard on several different occasions to get Rachel out of her clothes while he was dating her, but she always managed to change the subject and divert their (_her) _attention elsewhere. If someone as idiotic and useless as _Finn _managed to do what he could not, he's going to be seriously _pissed._

But Rachel also doesn't bore him. Not like Emily or pretty much every other girl he knows. She's crazy enough to _never _be boring, and that's something he can appreciate.

On Wednesday night, he leaves his class two minutes early and bumps straight into her right away. Her class isn't over, either.

So maybe that's something as well.

… … …

A/N: Jesse. My can-do-no-wrong beautiful angel...


End file.
